Uncanny Contrivances
by vilyasthrall
Summary: RED & BLU are dreading what this Hallow'een match will bring. But this time, before the day has even started, something is already amiss. And it involves muzzles and claws. Currently on HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1: Dogs & Vans

Rating: 12+, for Scout's language & period casual homophobia.

Disclaimer: Malheureusment, I do not own Team Fortress 2 or its characters. Valve does. I only own these rather appalling attempts at phonetic accents and my own headcanons over team interactions.

A/N: WIP, but I currently have four chapters typed out and more written.

1\. Dogs & Vans

It was a calm morning in Teufort, so early that dawn was only just breaking on the distant horizon. It was not a view which could normally be savoured, since one or other of the teams' snipers would be up on the rooftops taking potshots at anyone stupid enough to be standing around- on their own teams, even, if the coffee had run out- but it was beautiful nonetheless.

The calm was broken by the usual culprit.

"Yo, Snipes!" Scout hammered on the van's passenger door some more, causing the van to bounce slightly. "You said you were going to teach me how Australians deal with bush vampires or whatever other sh*t we're facing to today, like, an hour ago. Man, you're supposed to be up and killing BLUs by now. Truckie's gonna be so pissed. I know you're in there! You weren't anywhere up on the base and you left the f*cking blinds shut."

Silence tricked back across the landscape as the scout waited triumphantly for Sniper to give in and allow him his victory.

Instead, all he got was a tin-muffled whine.

"What the hell, Snipes?" Scout paused, tilting his hat up to rub his forehead in thought. "When did you get a dog?"

Scout heard the sound of a loud crash up the front of the van, and the whole van chassis rocked. He quick-footed to the cab, peering in, but still couldn't see anything.

"Yo, Snipes?" he repeated uneasily. "Y'alright, mate? I swear if you tripped over your own f*king new dog rushing to teach me sh*t then you're more stupid than Spy says 'cause I don't actually need these lessons, or anything-"

He jumped back, arms pinwheeling as something heavy slammed into the van's side-door and almost taking a faceful of desert dust.

"Not cool," he grunted. "But, hey, man, if you're gonna set the dog on me, might want to open de door first, chucklenuts."

After a moment's consideration, Scout scampered back slightly and climbed onto an overturned milk-vat. Not because he was scared, but because none of the old fags on his team had a sense of humour, and had a nasty habit of taking his suggestions at face value.

"Well?" he taunted, standing with his ankles braced around the solid, reassuring metal of the vat's lid. "Too nancy to face me?"

There was an urgent yelp from inside the van.

Scout crossed his arms, rocking on the heavy metal. "Fine," he huffed, gaze going back to the main base. "Be like that. I'll just deal with the vampires all on my f*cking own. Like I can. Right."

He fled, kicking up the dust in a striking zig-zag trail across the ground back towards the warm-toned base.

He was too annoyed at the RED Sniper to notice that no bullets traced his wake. From either side.


	2. Chapter 2: Dog at Dinner

2\. Dog at Dinner

"Where's Slim?"

"Dunno." Scout took a morose mouthful of his pancakes and then swilled it around with a gulp of 'Bonk!'.

"I thought you and him were having training this morning."

"So did I." Scout swallowed. "Guess I was wrong. Bastard. Don't need him, anyhow. See how many briefcases I got compared to him? Kill-count don't matter in hell, 'cause it don't win any matches. He can't even bear the doc so how's he supposed to outsmart me. Probably still in bed on his ass like the ass he is-"

The engineer frowned, which was never a good sign.

"Engie?" Scout said nervously. He could deal with a few people hating him on any one day, but he'd just realized that on Hallow'een that it was probably better to have as many allies in the team as possible. He might be a one-man team, but he still needed support… "Y'alright, right?"

"He ain't come in," Engineer said simply. "Not even for coffee."

"Wha- oh, yeah," Scout realized. "Ya fixed his machine, yet? He's been like a bear wi'a sore head ever since it broke."

"Not yet, kid," Engineer said, with one of his special, genuine smiles. "Na, can't really do anything in the workshop until the furnace finishes up. Been up since you were crashing around. Not that I minded- anyone who got some shut-eye with Demo and Solly carrying on last night were lucky, I say."

"Oh," Scout said, wiping maple syrup off his lips with his sleeve. "Well, thanks. Better be going- say, when did Snipes get a dog?"

Engineer, who had been opening up his needle case, paused. "Since when does he have a dog? We're still banned from leaving base for another fortnight."

"How should I know? Since this morning, Sherlock. I went to his crappy van and told his to move his ass, and he tried to set it on me! But I was like, woah, no way, and I- Hey!"

That last exclamation was because Scout had paused for breath long enough to notice his audience laughing.

He raised his knife threateningly, which might have looked more impressive if he hadn't raised his fork as well, so he looked like his own type of begging dog. "That mutt must've been, like, massive. Made the whole van shake. Probb'ly eats as much as Heavy."

"Or you."

"Hey! I respect that implication!" He threw the knife at his colleague, proving why knives weren't used as baseball balls when it completely missed. He ignored it. "I've got, like a high metabolism, or whatever. Doc says so, and I don't see you measuring your eating like yer supposed to." He pointed with his fork at the incriminating insulin injector, which was balanced between the engineer's left forefinger and index finger.

"Fine," Engineer allowed good-naturedly. "But all of this, dog or not, still don't explain why Slim ain't eaten yet. Everyone but Doc and Spy've already eaten, and, like I said, he hasn't touched the coffee-maker."

"Then the f*cking dog's prob'lly et him," Scout said, hastily getting up before the Engineer could apply his needle to his arm. "Not that I care. See you, Truckie."

Next: Scout wonders what, exactly, is the difference between the teeth of dogs and wolves.


	3. Chapter 3: Masked Dogs

3\. Masked Dogs

" _This_ is your monster-dog, kid?" Engie said incredulously, the last word in exactly the mocking tone Scout most hated. "Don't look like it could eat a man te me. Still, at least it means Slim'll be here soon."

"Not cool, mate," he said bitterly, turning. "I'm telling ya, I saw-"

A mangy red-brown dog had slunk into the respawn room, head close to the ground, with button-bright black eyes.

"Mmm-mmph!" Pyro exclaimed, dropping its axes back into its locker. "Mmm-mmhh?"

"Scout is scared of cute doggie?" Heavy asked incredulously.

"No way," Scout said as dismissively as possible, angling his head away from the dog. "Like I said, Snipes' mustta been huge, like twice this one, 'cause I don't scare easily, and I'm telling you, the damn thing was massive- what you looking at!"

The red-brown dog was looked squarely at him not, black eyes deep and knowing. Scout noted, uneasily, the panda-rings of lighter fur around its eyes and muzzle. He'd seen that somewhere before…

"Heavy think Scout make new friend!"

Scout only just dodged Heavy's huge hand, which had been about to slap him on the back, shooting a glare at him and the four members of the team in the locker-room, daring them to say anything (not that Pyro could, of course, but still) It couldn't really be Sniper's dog, right? He hadn't seen it, but it had sounded f*cking massive.

"That isn't my dog," he protested. Pyro cooed in its direction. "Not cool. So not cool." He leaned against the nearest locker, getting his breath back, whilst continuing to watch Heavy warily out of the corner of his eye.

In hindsight, even Scout admitted it had been a bad idea to take his eyes off the dog.

"Where is- little dog is going to his Scout!"

"Wha- hey, watch it!" Scout shouted, waving his hands ineffectually as the mass of tendons and fur leapt at him.

It missed him, slammed head-first into the locker behind him.

"Bad dog!" Scout admonished, straightening himself up, acutely aware of the others watching. "I mean, I'm not scared of you. Why would I be, mutt?"

The dog dodged the kick he'd aimed at it and growled, lips peeling back to reveal teeth that looked way too dangerous to be just a dog. He fell backwards. Sniper couldn't have caught and trained a runty wolf, could he? Didn't they take decades to turn into safe dogs?

As swiftly as it had shown its teeth, they disappeared. The dog jumped into the now open locker, and grabbed at the contents with its jaw, spilling it across the floor.

Scout couldn't help but gape at the mess of silver, cigarettes and aftershave. Did the mutt have a death-wish? Even Scout knew not to mess with the spook's stuff.

"Hey, that's spai's!"

 _Now_ Engie stepped in, Scout thought bitterly. Not when he, the frickin' Scout, been about to be mauled by it. Still hadn't even apologized for not believing in the dog.

"I reckon Slim's trained the dog to get at spai since he can't," the Engineer said wonderingly. "Feel sorry for it when spai comes, though."

"Da," Heavy agreed. He was hefting Pyro's axe, for some reason, Scout noticed. Fag. "Is still cute, though, da?"

"Yeah, reckon so," Engie agreed with a lop-sided grin. "Wait, you don't want to eat that! Scout!"

Scout started, drawing his eyes away from the Heavy's axe-aerobics just in time to see the dog raising its head, the straps of Spy's invisi-watch in its jaws. It brought a paw to its muzzle as it back-pedalled from Engineer, rubbing at its muzzle with the back of it.

"Bloody f*cking hell," he said. "How are we meant to get that back?"

"Mm-"

Further commentary was prevented when the dog flickered as smoke consumed its outline and then entirely disappeared.

All four of them stared at the empty space, in various states of shock.

Scout tried to vocalize what they were all thinking. "That was just, like, coincidence, right, Engie?" he asked. "It couldn't have known, right?"

"Mmmph min-mhh, mphat.""

"Mighty fine, yeah," Engie said uneasily. "Well-trained an' all that. Never knew Slim 'ad it in 'im."

Scout had an uncomfortable thought that the dog's markings looked like a certain spooks' mask. "Na," he said.

"What?" Engie asked.

"Nuffink." Scout sauntered over to his own locker. There was no way spy was blaming the mess on the floor on him when he came. Not on Hallow'een, when everyone was already in bad, uncooperative moods. "Just think Snipes' got an odd sense a'humour when he chose 'is dogs. Coulda sworn it looks like… never mind."

He had better things to think about, anyway. Bush vampires, for example.

Next: RED's Engineer tries to inject some sanity to current events.


	4. Chapter 4: Doggie in the Window

4\. Doggie in the Window

Ten minutes to the match, and even the hungover double-act of Soldier and Demo had seen fit to attend the gathering in the respawn room. Dell wasn't too worried about the spook (well, not until he finally arrive and found of that 'the bushman's mutt' had run off with one of his precious cloaking devices- and slathered drool over the rest of his gadgets and lint-rollers- at least), but Sniper should have already arrived, whether he'd been on the water-tower or in the sewers. And, given what the kid had already said…

"I'm gonna go see if I can find Slim," he said, cracking his knuckles decisively.

Scout, who'd been bouncing on the balls of his feet beside a morose-looking Demo, looked up with a mixture of pleading, bravado and fear. "Uh, Engie-"

"You're coming with me, kid," Dell said. He tossed the wrench back in his locker. "Burn off some of that energy before the match. I want everyone to be alert. You all know the sort of thing that happens at this time of year, and I want the BLUs to be on the receiving end for once."

"Understood, sir!" Soldier shouted from his exile at the other end of the room. "And I went to the team post-box as ordered last night and sent the apology letter you told me to to Merasmus!"

"Good."

"If he comes, can I hit him with my shovel?"

Dell sighed. "Yes," he said. "Like we agreed."

"Can I tell Sniper he's a jerk?" Scout demanded, tugging at Dell's sleeve.

"Sure. If you want."

Scout jumped in place, but only single-jumps, since the room was too enclosed for much more. "Right," he announced to the world at large. "Epic. Let's go!"

Dell lingered a few moments after the 'Bonk!' demon ran off, trading a significant glance with the less-than-amused Medic: _keep them alive until I get back,_ he told him, and shook his head disapprovingly at Pyro.

The pyromaniac did its best to look apologetic and lowered its yellow-tipped gloves from the flamethrower's gas valve.

Dell sighed, shaking his head as only a Conagher could do, and followed after Scout. The kid had last heard him in his van, so that was probably where he was going… yep, Dell thought as he saw the slight haze of dust leading from the doorway round the side to Slim's van, that hypothesis was right.

Despite it being likely all the BLUs were in their own respawn room by now, Dell was still typically cautious, staying close to the wall as he followed after Scout to avoid the other. over-zealous, sniper. Then again, maybe they were as uncomfortable at fighting today as the REDs were, although comparing the similarities of the teams was an automatically odd feeling for Dell to have.

Personally, he'd put a fair fist of money on Merasmus, even with the precautions he's taken. If the wizard was as like Soldier as he seemed, Dell wouldn't put it past him just to turn up out of spite.

Their sniper's van was parked up as normal, looking uncomfortably hot even though there'd only been a few hour sun; he'd never understand how the Australian could weather temperatures that even had a Texan like himself sweltering, but he'd just chalked it up as another of the things that made Slim, well, Slim.

The camper blinds were drawn, if half being torn away could be called 'drawn'. "Slim?" he called, uneasily. He exchanged glances with Scout, who looked annoyingly smug, swinging in place atop a five-foot old milk-churn. It looked like the kid was right; Slim's new dog really was a menace. "Match's in eight. You're up, right?" He sighed. Sometimes, being de facto team captain was more trouble than it was worth. If he could just convince Spy to do what he was paid to… no, Spy the loner as captain would cause the team to fall apart within a day. "I don't blame you for not wanting to be around the spook now, but it's your own bloody fault, and you heard Her threats to our jobs if we didn't work today as well as him.

"Bloody hellfire!" he said, stumbling backwards

A great grey-and-black muzzle was pressed against the window of their sniper's van, a jaw large enough to take Scout's head off in one bite.

"I told ya!" Scout said. "I told ya!" There was the sound of rubber on metal as Scout scrambled to his feet, and slid from the churn, looking ready to bolt. "I told-"

"Yeah," Dell said shortly, clasping a hand over Scout's mouth to muffle the words as he tried to stare down the massive… wolf? It had a thick fur mane, like a mountain dweller, and certainly wasn't indigenous to the area. How in the nine circles of hell had Slim got it when they weren't allowed to leave the base.

Unless, of course, it wasn't his. In which case… did respawn work from the stomach?

"I think," he said, rolling the words around his mouth thoughtfully, "that-"

There was a sudden, unexpected yip. Not the sort of sound the wolf would make, but…

In answer, a curl of red smoke crossed Dell's line of sight to the sombre-looking wolf. He followed the trail the wind had made to… sitting by the van's door was the russet dog from respawn, ears pinned back and the spook's cloaking device dropped neatly between his front paws. He was staring at Dell with the same intensity it had reserved for Scout earlier.

Either this was one hell of a coincidence or the two dogs knew each other.

Dell's memory provided a pertinent piece of information; wolves travelled in fiercely loyal, territorial packs. "Y'want me to open the door and let your friend out?" he guessed, not sure exactly why he was talking to it.

Hell, it was Hallow'een. Weirder things had happened, although, admittedly, not without an obvious cause.

The dog gave a yawning bark, stretching its paws possessively around the cloaking device.

"F*ck it, you're not serious," Scout said, shying back as Dell loosened his grip on his face. "I mean, look at it, it's waiting to eat us! Y'can see it drooling… we're like… merc-chew-toys to it. Engie? Never mind. I'm gonna get my scattergun, play fetch-"

"Kid!" Dell wasn't fast enough to move between Scout and the smaller dog as it leapt straight at him, throwing him backwards into the dust. Scout scrabbled to get up and then froze. Even from behind, Dell could see how it stood over Scout's unprotected neck, jaws slightly agape. Dell cursed not bringing his shotgun, and rolled his sleeve up away from his next best weapon. If he could get hold of the wolf before it realized he was here.

Scout whimpered, and, said, wonderingly, "Spy?"

What? The words stopped Dell short, if only from confusion.

Scout continued to stare into the russet's muzzle, eyes looking slightly dazed from staring possible death in the face, yet looking uncharacteristically single-minded. "Spy?" he repeated, more softly.

If Dell hadn't seen what happened next, he wouldn't have believed it. The dog, still staring at Scout, lowered its head solemnly and whined. In response, Scout, automatically, started scratching under its chin. The wolf made a series of rumbling growls before it seemed to remember itself and back up in an awkward, shuffling gait.

"Uh, sorry," Scout said quickly, backing up and pulling himself up on a half-incinerated cardboard cow. "My bad. But… seriously? Man, that, like, sucks."

The wolf made another chooking growl in the back of its throat that was so familiar now he thought about it Dell was almost overcome by the desire to laugh. "Spook?" he said, instead.

The spyhound turned its head to him, ears up and alert. Yes, there was a definite resemblance in its facial markings to the spook, Dell thought. He sighed. "Mighty fine mess already. I thought Hallow'een match sh*t was not supposed to happen until the game started proper." He froze as his parallel track of thoughts finally reached their end conclusion, turning back to the forlorn giant wolf in the camper. "Slim?"

There was a low bark in reply, and Sniper pressed a black-padded paw against the glass.

Dell sighed. This was going to be a long day, he thought, as he wrenched the sticky camper door open with a squeal of rust and then stood aside as Sniper squeezed his bulk through the opening, looking even more morose than normal.

Not that he didn't have good reason to be, Dell thought as Spy darted past to take a swipe at Sniper's nose.

The grey wolf howled in pain, falling backwards, and then growled threateningly.

"Now, now, lads," Dell said, stepping between the two of them despite his better judgement. "Spook, lay off. Slim, for once, don't give 'im the satisfaction of fighting back.

A sullen, but thankfully unpunctuated silence followed, and Dell tried his best to relax.

How were they supposed to explain this to Her? Especially when only spook had the codes…

A/N: Poor Sniper, not wanting to damage his van.

NB: My head-canon is that the BLU Engineer is called Delmond does anyone have any other suggestions?

Next: We see if the BLUs are coping any better with their own furry little problems.


	5. Chapter 5: Private Wolf

A/N: And now take a break from the REDs to see if the BLUs were afflicted with their own little Hallow'een puppies… or fully grown wolves, for that matter.

5\. Private Wolf

More than a few eyebrows were raised when a brown-furred and overly muscled dog strutted into the mess-hall just as Soldier finished shaking his hand-bell with the enthusiasm that only he could muster on a day like today. Its long claws made an audible sound on the hard concrete floor which was actually not unlike Soldier's own heavy hob-nailed boots.

In the silence following its entrance, the soldier dropped the hand-bell on the table with a clank of metal-on-metal that made the BLU Engineer grin automatically despite himself, but kept quiet, as did the rest of the team, waiting until Soldier made his pronouncement.

The dog yawned, exposing impressively long yellowed canines.

Soldier made a noise of approval. "Who's is this magnificent specimen?" he demanded. "Truckie?"

The Engineer smiled again, although this time for an altogether different reason. "Sorry, pardner," he said.

Similar denials came from the rest of those at the table, until Demo lifted his head from his placemat and suggested, "Could be Sniper's. Looks like him, don't it? He likes animals, don't he?"

There was a pause where Soldier considered this. "Well, he has given up his right to eat and say it is his. Therefore this dog is mine."

Several alarmed looks from their more awake teammates suddenly found Delmond.

Engineer sighed. "Solly, I don't think you should do that," he said gently.

"Why not?"

"We, uh, don't want Stretch annoyed with the team any more than he already is. Not today. Don't you think it's punishment enough that he's missing breakfast?"

"He shouldn't be letting the team down by refusing sustenance. Or keeping an unregistered pet that is a drain on supplies!"

Delmond sighed. Solly had a protective streak a mile wide, for _his_ people. He was like some old European hill-fort king. "I think you should cut Stretch some slack. Remember yesterday?"

"Oh." Even Soldier felt bad about the incident with the stairs, despite being mostly satisfied that Medic had healed all the sniper's broken bones and declared him fit before they'd all turned in. It had actually been an accident rather than one of Scout and Pyro's pranks, but Sniper hadn't seen it that way, and he did have a nasty habit of headshotting teammates who'd annoyed him just when they'd thought he'd forgotten. Soldier liked going on his morning laps of the base, something even he couldn't do without a head. "Very well," he allowed. "Sniper will retain his right to the ownership of this example of American prowess at dog-breeding. But I will feed it!"

With this rousing declaration, he pushed himself up. The dog appeared to sit up straighter, tail thumping the floor as his head rotated to follow Soldier to the freezer.

"Good American steak!" he announced proudly, throwing it to the floor.

The dog immediately bolted to the frozen meat and began to gnaw at one of its corners, looking as happy as it could be.

Delmond frowned as he watched it. "We're missing a few people," he observed neutrally. "Not like them, Solly, 'specially not on a battle-day."

"'Specially not on Hallow'een, y'mean," Demo griped, poking without fervour at his Pyro-grilled Welsh Rarebit. "If I've said it once, ah've said it a thousand tim-"

"Mmm-Mmm fmms!"

"Kill REDs!"

Delmond sighed. He used his position at Solly's left as strategically as ever, twisting around in his seat as the others started shouting catchphrases and memes at each other so he could get a better look at the dog. He nudged it in the flank, catching a side-profile of its long muzzle, longer than the dogs his pa had kept on the farm.

A German Shepherd, perhaps? Maybe the doc would identify it when he arrived. He, at least, was usually late and only got away with it by threatening to remove Soldier's voicebox if he complained. Sniper might be avoiding them because of the rotten staircase incident, admittedly, but that still left their unusually sociable spy.

Where were they all?

Finally, the arguing had died down to a reasonable level. "What did ya always know, Demo?" the Engineer asked curiously.

"Wha- oh. That we should nae be fightin' on Hallow'een! I'd rather do battle at Smissmas!"

There was the predictable chorus of shocked exclamations from the other Americans at the table, none louder than the ones from Scout, although Solly tried, of course.

Heavy, though, unexpectedly, nodded agreement. "Hallow'een not had good experience of," he said. "Was better in Russia, where is no Hallow'een."

"Can I go to Russia?" Demo begged, causing Solly's temper to come back in full force.

Drunken wistfulness aside, he did have a point. Hallow'een battles were worse than being dominated by every member of the REDs at once- something that had thankfully only happened to the Engineer once- especially when Solly's new roommate turned up and accidentally wasted them when he was trying to get back at the REDS. If Solly had allowed them to bet on base, he would have put his bet on them all being killed at least four times by the wizard before they convinced Solly to give it up as a bad job.

There was a cracking sound as the dog finally managed to break a corner off the steak and sat back, chewing it contentedly like a meat ice lolly whilst strutting over to him and Soldier smugly. Its tail whacked the floor loudly as Solly congratulated him and ruffled his head fur.

Well, it certainly seemed tame enough.

Delmond sighed and went back to his food, sighing as a verbal spat broke out, the only type of fighting that Solly would allow at meals, Scout versus everyone else.

Breakfast passed slowly. Delmond's eyes were roving around the cold steel and concrete design of the base. He was therefore the first of the team to notice the second dog enter the mess-hall.

Two dogs? Solly wouldn't approve. This wasn't a zoo. Or a farm.

This one was even larger than the first- and he wasn't exactly small- its fur was a light grey scattered with white-yellow which, on a human, would have been called blond. It was probably called gold or some such with dogs, not that that was important. No, its carriage was more intriguing to the engineer: it looked less confident that Solly's dog, despite being bulkier and more muscled. Its ears were pinned back, and when it moved, its stomach almost touched the ground. It looked nervous.

Abruptly, the blond wolfhound froze, scenting the air with its mouth very slightly agape. Its sank to its haunches, and barked.

The brown-coated dog at Solly's side sat bolt-upright, ignoring Solly's scratching fingers and then bolted towards the wolfhound via the quickest route… through the mess of legs and metal under the table.

"Where do you think you're going, private?" the BLU soldier demanded as Pyro yelped in fear, jumping to its feet and rubbing at its boots. "You did not have permission… Atta boy! That's the American spirit!"

Solly cheered as the brown dog bowled-over the second.

He was brought short, though, when the wolfhound landed a resounding clout to the side of Stretch's dog's head.

Delmond leaned over the Soldier, grabbing his hand before he could stand and then leaning over his shoulder, his other hand brushing his back in reassurance. "Americans fight their own battles," he reminded Solly carefully, using the same argument he used when Demo and Scout got into arguments. It seemed like it would be effective, since in just an hour he'd already adopted 'Private Dog' into his team.

Thankfully, Soldier's muscles relaxed under Delmond's grip. Even when the larger wolfhound worried around Dog's neck, he didn't stand, and the engineer was glad to see Dog roll over submissively before things got out of hand and Solly did decide to intervene.

Sniper really wouldn't like Soldier killing one of his pets.

The brown dog whined, dropping the drool-coated and half-masticated lump of steak on the floor, nudging it forwards with his nose. Delmond half-expected a comment from Spy on disgusting contaminants, whether he was more easy-going than their old spy or not, but he wasn't there. Still.

Delmond leaned forward to see past Scout. The larger dog was still sniffing at the meat, and continued to do so before nudging it with its nose and whining.

It dogs could smirk, Private Dog did. It picked up the lump of meat and stood, tail bristling out, and accompanied the larger canine, like a furry bodyguard, to the steak. The wolfhound looked between the still-chewing dog and the meat before settling on the floor and beginning to chew on an unworried corner.

"Hey-" Solly started. "That is Private Dog's."

"Let him share it," Delmond advised quietly. "You can take this up with Stretch when you next see him, right? Ask him why he's started training dogs- maybe if he wants both, yes?"

He had to grin at the brief delighted look that passed across Solly's face. Then Soldier regained control of himself. "I will, Engie," he said. "Now maggots! Let's move out!"


	6. Chapter 6: Walking with Wolves

A/N: Something short while I'm working on the next chapter. I do so ship unreturned BLU SniperXPack Leader. It's so sad… too bad Solly's already taken…

6\. Walking with Wolves

The two dogs proved to be unnerving escorts, accompanying them all the way to the respawn room despite Pyro's repeated attempts to cuddle them and Scout's jealous attempts to shoo them off. The wolfhound still remained nervous whenever Private Dog went more than a few yards from him, and whined repeatedly in response to Soldier shouting imprecations at Scout, Sniper, Spy and Medic.

These reactions came to a head when, after a particularly vitriolic insult, the wolfhound stopped reacting passively and launched itself at Solly, jaw clamping around his leg causing him to collapse with a roar of pain. Soldier tried to push himself up several times after it had retreated, to wring its neck, but the moment he put any weight on his leg it gave way underneath him.

Solly paused, as if in thought. "Medic!" he called. "Medic!"

Demond turned angrily to the wolfhound. It looked… smug? It batted the nose of the concerned brown dog and sat up straight, pale spine archer and head tilted slightly to the side as if posing, just… like… Medic…

"Hot damn," Delmond cursed, pushing past Heavy, who had Scout practically melded to his back, where he was hiding from the 'killer dog'. "Doc?" he said, cautiously. dropping to his knees before saying over his shoulder.

"What the actual-"

"Scout, go out on the field and find Soldier a medikit _now_."

Scout needed no second urging- face a Soldier-killing dog or the very unlikely chance of the RED Sniper still being on watch.

The rest of the team, though, Solly included, were staring at him and the wolfhound, which, one he'd transferred his gaze to it, rolled its eyes as if saying, _finally_.

And on the other

He glanced at Private Dog, suddenly remembering Demo's comment that he looked a lot like Sniper. Innocent then, but… "Stretch?" he asked.

Private Dog- Sniper- yipped excitedly, rearing up on his hind legs before being batted by Medic.

"What?" Soldier asked groggily.

"Da," Heavy agreed. "I would know also."

Next: BLU have started searching for their final missing team-member, Spai!


End file.
